


May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

by ThreeWhiskeyLunch



Series: Dreamland [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, First Christmas, M/M, Mass Effect 3: Citadel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9012940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/pseuds/ThreeWhiskeyLunch
Summary: Joker’s idea to have a party after the insanity of chasing after Shepard's clone (and then chasing after the Normandy) is a good one. It's been a long time since Shepard has celebrated Christmas. So long that he doesn't even realize it's Christmas eve when he breaks through that fish tank. But the day after, when Kaidan wishes him “Happy Belated Christmas,” Shepard knows exactly what kind of party they're going to have. Welcome to the Citadel Party: Yuletide Edition.





	1. On the First Day of Christmas...

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 Prompt: Decorations

_6 days after Shepard’s clone attempts to steal the Normandy…_

  
Shepard twists the gold and red garland around the banister railing, whistling as he works. A smile ghosts the corner of his mouth when he hears Kaidan humming along, dulcet tones drifting upstairs from the kitchen right below him. “…one horse open sleigh…” Kaidan sings and Shepard chuckles.

  
“Sing it, babe!” he yells down and Kaidan’s head and shoulders appear as he leans over the counter and looks up.

  
“You started it! Now it’s stuck in my head, damnit.”

  
Shepard laughs and winks and laughs even more as Kaidan blows him a raspberry.

  
“You and your holiday party.”

  
“I seem to recall a certain Major thinking my theme for Jokers party to be a damn fine one—” He’s interrupted by the door chime and his face is split by a grin. “The tree!” He breaks for the steps, running down two at a time, the thundering of his stocking feet echoing through the apartment. He skids to a stop in front of the door, sliding over the wooden floor. He has to admit, he’s more excited about finding a Christmas tree on the Citadel than he probably should be. But damnit, if he’s going to have a party, he’s going to do it right. Not his fault his clone decided Christmas eve was the best time to try and take over his life.

  
He swings the door open, greeting the Krogan delivery person with what even he admits is about the doofiest smile he’s ever managed in his life. “Artificial holiday stump for Shepard.”

  
“That’s me.”

  
“Sign here.” A data pad lands in his hands and he happily scrawls his name. And then the Krogan shoves the monstrous tree through the door and stomps away, leaving a beaming Shepard to wrestle it over to the window.

  
“Good god, John. Didn’t they have any bigger ones?” Kaidan attempts to help, but John sets the tree down and steps back to admire it. He has to lean back to do so.

  
“There was only the one tree left. Believe it or not, there are few places on the Citadel that actually stock fake Christmas trees. Especially after it’s over.” He taps at his omnitool and the tree comes to life, white needles and branches twinkling with a thousand shimmering lights. “Oh…wow…Kay…”

  
Kaidan slips his arm around Shepard’s waist, drawing him close. “It’s beautiful, John,” he says, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. Which just makes John’s toes curl. They grin at each other and then look back at the tree, admiring all seven and a half feet and fake snow and blazing lights of it.

  
“Although…” Kaidan says. “Hmm…”

  
“What? What’s wrong? Did I get the wrong one? I’ve never bought a tree before!”

  
“Well, it’s just that…” Kaidan keeps his eyes on the tree, his forehead wrinkling with concern. “I don’t want to seem like a Scrooge, but…I think there’s something missing…”

  
“They didn’t have much for decorations. Kaidan. I got some gold balls—” Shepard takes a step away, but is pulled back to his lover’s side. “Kaidan?”

  
“I was actually thinking…it’s missing the star. No Christmas tree is complete without a star.”

  
“Oh…” Shepard kicks himself mentally. He hadn’t even thought of that, starts to make a mental checklist of stores that might carry something like a star. “Shit. Okay, you go search Zakera ward and I'll—”

  
“How about this instead?” And he looks down to see Kaidan holding out a homemade star, the five points wrapped in shining foil, secured with glue and backed with what appears to be a half inner tube from a toilet paper roll. All the air is sucked from his lungs and if it weren’t for the solid feel of the man at his side, he’s damn sure he’d be panicking. Instead he reaches out with trembling fingers and takes the star, twirling it so the foil sparkles.

  
“Kaidan…”

  
The man in question captures his gaze and smiles. “Made one like this when I was in grade school. Mom put it on the tree that year and every year after, even though we had a perfectly good angel that went up there. Got kinda beat up after so many years. Dad had to do some reconstructive surgery at one point.” His voice is thoughtful as he speaks, breaking only once when he mentions his father.

  
John smiles, leans close to kiss Kaidan’s cheek. “It’s perfect. Thank you. I wondered what you were doing in the kitchen.”

  
Kaidan laughs softly. “Just making a craft mess. I’ll go clean it up—”

  
“No, wait. Just. Wait.” Shepard tugs him close, leans against his solid frame. “Can we just…stop for a minute? Admire the view?”

  
Kaidan laughs again, presses his hip against Shepard’s. “Sure, John. Anything you want.” He tucks a finger into Shepard’s belt and sighs. They stand for a long while, admiring the blinking tree against the backdrop of the strip outside the window. “How’re we getting that star up on top?” Kaidan asks after a while, looking up to where the tree ends in a glimmering point.

  
“Hmm…well. I have this idea…”

 


	2. On the Second Day of Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 prompt: Prompt: Snowflakes/Snowfall

Shepard and Kaidan sit at the dining room table. White specks of paper litter the tabletop, stick to their shirt sleeves, drift down onto the floor. The only sound to be heard–beyond the general hum of the city outside–is the folding of paper, the snipping of scissors as they each make tiny cuts along the folded edges.

Shepard restrains himself from muttering again about how omniblades would be better for this type of work. The memory of Kaidan’s scowl and lecture about breaking traditions hundreds of years old simply for the sake of convenience is enough to keep his mouth shut. Also the contented look and occasional happy humming as Kaidan opens up another paper snowflake and displays it for Shepard’s approval. Also the fact that they’re sitting in companionable silence, doing absolutely nothing constructive, nearly able to forget the war that rages and the long list of to-do’s that waits once Shepard and the crew return to the ship.

Shepard carefully unfolds the snowflake he’s been working on for the last half hour, the paper crinkling, small bits of paper drifting down onto the table. He grins at the design and holds it up for Kaidan’s approval.

“Nice one! You’re catching on quick.”

“It’s very soothing. Maybe we should have craft hour on the ship once a day.”

Kaidan laughs and hands him another sheet of paper. “Hey, if it works for calming down five year-olds…”

Shepard laughs and cuts the paper into smaller squares. “How many more do we need?”

Kaidan shrugs. “However many we want. I thought we could tape them up on the window in the corner behind the piano.”

“Okay.”

They sit and make snowflakes for the rest of the afternoon, paper snow falling from their fingers.


	3. On the Third Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 prompt: Gifts

“Aren’t you about done?” Kaidan knocks gently at the closed bedroom door. “I want to grab a shower and change before the crowd shows up.”

He hears the shuffling of paper and a thump before Shepard yells out, “Yeah, come in! Just don’t…laugh.”

It’s hard not to. Shepard sits on the floor surrounded by presents and wrapping paper and ribbon, all strewn around him like a holiday bomb has exploded in the bedroom. “Wow,” Kaidan manages to choke out the word, running his hand through his hair at the scene. “Shepard, you outdid yourself.”

He picks himself up off the floor, dusting stray bits of wrapping paper off his pants legs. “Yeah. Maybe I did. But who deserves it more than these guys? I mean–they saved my ass more than once. Probably saved my sanity too come to think of it. I wish I’d had more time, really. I feel like some of the presents are a bit rushed, you know?”

Kaidan laughs. “Most of them would be content with rifle mods and some decent alcohol.” He’s surprised to see Shepard blush.

“Well…that might have been my choice for some of them. I had no idea what to get Zaeed except whiskey. And I found this shotgun for Jack—”

Kaidan holds up his hands. “Alright. Alright. You don’t have to tell me all of them.” He steps closer and pulls Shepard into a tight embrace. “I think you’re absolutely wonderful, getting everyone something.”

“Some people might get more than one something,” Shepard says, his voice bashful as he speaks into Kaidan’s shoulder so that Kaidan laughs softly, hugging the other man even tighter. Shepard’s arms wrap around him, his hands smoothing over Kaidan’s back.

He hums and kisses Shepard’s ear, says “I love that you care so much, John,” before he breaks away and steps back. “Gonna take a shower. Care to join me?”

Shepard grins, his cheeks pinking with adorable color. “Yeah. Gimme a minute. I’ll be right there.”

Kaidan winks and moves backward toward the bathroom, dropping his shirt on the way. “Don’t be long.” And then he turns and lets John watch him disappear into the other room.

“As if.” Shepard huffs a sigh.

Kaidan drops the rest of his clothes on the floor, turns on the water. As he waits, he catches a glimpse of Shepard in the mirror. He watches him carry something small in his hand, open the bedside table drawer and drop it in.

Kaidan’s heart thuds heavily in his chest.

The box is unmistakably the size and shape of a jeweler’s ring box, tied up with silk ribbon. He swallows the lump in his throat and steps into the shower.


	4. On the Forth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 prompt: Holiday Spirits! ‘That’s what makes _____ to me’ (fill in your holiday. Kwanzaa, Christmas, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Bohdi Day, Festivus…go for it

Kaidan watches Shepard carry the tray of eggnog around the room, passing out glasses to those who can drink it. The man is beaming. Has been beaming for days and Kaidan feels a tightness in his chest at just how happy Shepard’s been at the prospect of the party to come. And now it’s here and Shepard can barely contain his glee. Glyph plays a mixture of Christmas music while the tree illuminates the many presents underneath and around it, strings of fairy lights strung up along the banister, draped over the piano and along behind the bar. The simulated fire in the fireplace crackles cheerily, warming the hearts and souls of those clustered around it. Laughter breaks out from a group in the kitchen, Garrus’ voice carrying over the sound as he recounts a story from the SR-1 days.

A small glass now empty of eggnog plunks down on the bar next to Kaidan, looking almost like a thimble next to Wrex’s hand. “Don’t know what that was, but I need something stronger to kill the aftertaste,” Wrex grumbles. “Don’t suppose Shepard has any ryncol back there?”

Kadan grins and pulls out a fresh bottle and an empty glass. “Eggnog not to your liking?”

Wrex mutters something and takes the bottle, but leaves the glass.

Kaidan plays bartender for a while, only leaving when Steve takes over and tells him to mingle. He gets pulled into a conversation with Joker and EDI, but his attention is always half on Shepard, his gaze following him around the rooms as if he doesn’t want to let him out of his sight. He tries to put the small box he’d seen John hide out of his thoughts, but he can’t quite let it go. He’d resisted the very strong urge to linger in the bedroom after they’d both dressed and Shepard had headed downstairs. Whatever it is (and Kaidan doesn’t know quite what to think of it, if it _is_ what he suspects it might be), John’s secrets are his own and Kaidan can respect that. He’s questioned him enough in the past. Time to let that go.

“Ho, ho, ho!” James appears at the top of the stairs, kitted out in full Santa Claus gear complete with a full white beard and shining black boots. “Me-e-erry Christmas!” He slings a pack over his shoulder and descends the steps, playing up the part of the jolly old elf.

Shepard slides up next to Kaidan, his arm wrapping around his waist and they watch as James enlists the help of Tali and Samantha (complete with Santa hats) in dispersing first the presents in his pack and then the presents under the tree. Many of them end up in a pile at Shepard’s feet, having been brought by enthusiastic crew members–many of them from the non-humans who’d never heard about Christmas until just a few days ago. It’s a testament to their love and respect for the Commander.

Shepard doesn’t even seem to notice the brightly wrapped presents at his feet. His eyes are on his crew. His friends. Kaidan watches Shepard watch everyone else, his eyes sparkling with merriment. Kaidan feels his heart about ready to burst with his love for this man and his joy of giving to everyone else. If he’d had any doubts about the two of them being together, they’re swept away like sun clearing out the misty fog.

That bright smile is turned on him and Kaidan’s heart stops. Shepard’s blue eyes are crinkled with laugh lines, cheeks rosy with excitement. Kaidan reaches up and cups John’s cheek, says “This.”

“This?”

“Yeah. This. You. How happy you are. Look at you. You can barely wait for people to open their presents. You have such a big heart, John. I’m pretty sure I’m just about the luckiest man alive and I’ll fight anyone who says differently. You’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time. Seeing you so happy? That’s what Christmas means to me.”

Shepard bumps their foreheads together, his hand covering Kaidan’s at his cheek. “Same here, Kay. Same here.”


	5. On the Fifth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 prompt: Hanar in ugly Christmas sweaters. Or anybody, really…hanar don’t have to be the only ones wearing them.
> 
> So...how about Hanar _on_ ugly Christmas sweaters???

Javik holds his present from Vega up in the air, examining it with the most sour expression Shepard has ever seen (and he’s observed some extremely sour looks conjured up by the old Prothean). “What…is this?” he asks, disdain in every syllable.

Shepard covers his mouth and tries to still the shaking of his shoulders. ‘Laughing at the last living Prothean’ does not go over well with the last living Prothean. Especially when he could crush Shepard with a nice dose of dark energy.

“Shepard told me about your exciting film career,” James says. “Couldn’t get any more perfect with this, Buggy!”

The Christmas sweater Javik holds up is if not the ugliest Shepard has ever had the privilege to see, one of the top contenders. Blasto covers the front, a bright red hat on his head and a long white beard dangling down his front made up of extra fluffy knit material so it stands out in 3-D. Instead of two pistols, he’s pointing two candy canes with his long tentacles. The words “En-Kringle This!” complete the hellish magic that is the sweater.

“ _That_ is the fucking ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life,” Zaeed says over the shocked silence of the crowd that has stopped everything to gawk. Jack snickers, but elbows the old merc in the side. “What? Only saying what everyone’s thinking. Poor bastard.” He passes a glass of whiskey over to Javik. “Here. That might help.”

Cortez dope-slaps Vega on the back of the head.


	6. On the Sixth Day of Christmas...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 prompt: Christmas Carols/Holiday Songs.

“But are they biotic?” Grunt asks. “How do these ‘reindeer’ fly if they’re not biotic? Does Santa Claus have jet packs on their feet?”

“It’s Christmas magic, Grunt,” Kaidan huffs. The Krogan has been pestering him with questions about Rudolph and company since hearing Kaidan, Cortez, Vega, and Kasumi belt the song out in an enthusiastic, if somewhat drunken, rendition of the old classic Christmas song. “You don’t question it. It just happens.”

“Sounds like a load of varren shit to me,” Grunt grumbles. “So what makes his nose so bright? Radiation? Battery pack? Birth defect?” A Krogan finger is pointed at his nose. “And don’t say ‘Christmas magic’.”

Kaidan sighs. “Christmas magic, Grunt. It’s all Christmas magic. It’s not real. It was never real.”

Grunt pauses for a long moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Not even...Santa Claus…?”

“No, Grunt. Not even Santa Claus.”

The Krogan’s shoulders slump slightly and he turns and walks away, muttering and grabbing a bottle of ryncol along the way to the sofa.

Shepard hands Kaidan a glass filled with something that Kaidan doesn’t even question, just takes a long drink from. “Way to kill my Krogan child’s hopes and dreams, Kay.”

“Shut up, John.”

 


	7. On the Seventh Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 prompt: Mistletoe. What a weird, human tradition…

“Sorry I’m late, Commander.” Shepard takes a step back from the door to let Karin Chakwas in, unable to take his eyes from the decoration bobbing over her head and held in place by a headband. **  
**

“Uh…no problem. Come on in! I’m glad you got take a break from the medical convention.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” She smiles at him, completely ignoring the mistletoe that dangles just above her forehead. Instead she hands him a brightly wrapped and ribboned package. “I hope you don’t mind, I got you a little something. But it should be eaten right away. There’s one for you and one for Kaidan.”

“Oh! Hang on,” he waves Kaidan over, watching the other man’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of the mistletoe and how he blinks quickly to subdue the surprise. The mistletoe is so at odds with her normally reserved demeanor, Shepard nearly giggles. Instead he says, “Karin brought us something. To eat I guess?”

She nods and watches as they unwrap the small box. Inside the wrapping is a white box and inside the white box, nestled carefully in packaging material so they don’t roll, are two large, bright red strawberries dipped in dark chocolate.

“Oh! Where did you get these?” Kaidan leans over the box as if trying to smell the sweetness. “I haven’t had a strawberry in ages! I real one, I mean.”

“There’s a place in Zakera Ward. They started a greenhouse to raise the berries. They’re quite good.” She winks. “I may have had one myself.” The mistletoe bobs and waves as she nods towards the box. “Go ahead. They only get soggy the longer you wait.”

Shepard smiles and leans close to kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

She accepts a kiss from Kaidan along with his thanks. “Right. Now to see if I can get everyone else to kiss me as well. I’ll count it a win if Wrex doesn’t bite my face off.”


	8. On the Eight Day of Christmas...(with bonus cookie recipe!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 prompt: Traditional foods/family recipes

A distinctive smell catches Shepard’s attention when he walks past the kitchen. His mouth instantly begins to water, even though he has no idea what he’s actually smelling: it’s sweet and spicy, with a tang of…burnt sugar? He peers over the crowd of onlookers gathered around the oven, amazed to see Kasumi pulling a tray of freshly baked cookies from the oven. The crowd murmurs while Kasumi swats several hands away. “Shepard first, you animals! Hey, Shep. Get over here before the rabble steals them all.”

The crowd parts, somewhat reluctantly (he hears Vega mutter something about ‘ass kissing’, but he ignores it for the lure of whatever magic is steaming away on the cookie sheet). “What did you make, Kasumi?”

“Molasses ginger cookies. My dad used to make them every Christmas. Not quite sure what got into me, but you had all the ingredients, so…”

He blinks at her in shock. “You mean you just…made these? From scratch? Like…now?”

She smiles at him like he’s soft in the head. “Yeah. Some people cook, you know.” She nudges the tray toward him. “Try one.”

The cookie is warm and soft, bending slightly in his fingers. A fine crust of sugar coats the outside, shimmering in the light. He takes a bite and…oh…spices and sweet and a little bitterness from the molasses…it all melts in his mouth.

“Oh my god…” He closes his eyes and takes another bite.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“Yeah,” Kasumi laughs.

“You’re a genius.”

“Well…” she doesn’t deny it.

 

~~~~~

**Whiskey’s Molasses Ginger Cookies**

Makes approx. 2 doz

_Set aside in bowl:_

¼ c sugar for rolling

_Mix well:_

½ c butter

¼ c molasses

1 c sugar

1 lg egg

_Then add:_

1 tsp soda

2 tsp ground ginger (freshly grated ginger does this cookie a service I can’t recommend enough, but dried is just fine)

½ tsp ground cloves

1 to 2 tsp ground cinnamon (depending on how you like it)

½ tsp salt

2 c flour

Mix until flour is incorporated, but don’t overmix. Roll into walnut sized balls, then roll in sugar. Bake 350f for 12 minutes. Enjoy!


	9. On the Ninth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 prompt: Making Spirits Bright. BOOZE, in other words!!

“Damnedest thing I ever saw,” Shepard hears Zaeed say, somewhere on the other side of the fireplace in the bar. The mercenary’s voice cuts like a buzzsaw through the rumble of the crowd. “Just kept at it, bugging that bartender for harder and harder drinks until the bastard finally pulls out this glowing bottle of ryncol. How many drinks had he had? You remember?”

Shepard hears Kasumi say, “Nope. But it was a lot. He was swaying before the ryncol even came out.”

“So the goddamn bartender whips out this ryncol,” Zaeed continues, “shakes it up Cocktail style–all flash and bang. Next thing you know, Shepard’s stumbling for the dance floor. I swear to fucking god, that’s a sight I never need to see again–Shepard dancing. Then his face turned green like he’s gonna puke his guts out. ‘Sumi and I barely manage to get him into the head before he tossed his guts on the floor.” He laughs, “Swear to god he was green for days after that.”

Shepard realizes with a start that he’s talking about him. The first and only time he’d had the Krogan equivalent of a jet fuel cocktail. He remembers that day clearly: his skin feeling tight and itching like it was still growing around him, disoriented from the previous weeks of waking up and Cerberus and the Normandy, then stepping out onto the familiarity of the Citadel, talking to Anderson.

Asking about Kaidan.

He’d tried to make his question casual, _“Hey, how’s old so-and-so?”_ but he knows the words came out thick with emotion. However glad he was to have Garrus and Joker and Chakwas on board, he missed Kaidan with an ache that even though he wasn’t awake for the entirety still felt two years in the making. As though his body knew the loss, even if his mind hadn’t.

“Shepard’s never been able to handle his alcohol. Even before—” Kaidan’s words jar him back to the party. His lover doesn’t finish the thought, but Shepard knows what he was about to say: _before he was brought back by that traitorous organization, before his cybernetic enhancements, before there were questions about loyalty._ Shepard steps around the corner and slides up behind Kaidan, wrapping his arms around him and burying his nose in his neck. He’s careful to avoid the biotic amp.

“Hey, Shepard. We were just talking about you,” Kaidan twists slightly as he feels the other man hold him in a slightly unbalanced embrace.

“Lies,” he mutters. “All lies.”

“Uh huh.” And then he’s twisting around and they’re swaying to the music– _I’m dreaming…of a white…Christmas…Just like the ones I used to know…_ –and Zaeed and Kasumi drift away discreetly, leaving them alone in the crowd.

Shepard thinks again about the small box hidden away upstairs, still indecisive. There are too many outside forces at work against them. Too many things he can’t control. But if there’s one thing that’s certain it’s the solid presence of the man wrapped up in his arms, who tips him lightly to one side and then the other– _May your days be merry…and bright…_ –and leans back to grin, brown eyes twinkling with merriment.

“I love you,” Kaidan says. He knows he’ll never grow tired of hearing that.

Shepard says, “I love you too.”

There really is no question.

His decision is made.


	10. On the Tenth Day of Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 prompt: New Year’s Countdown.

_“Ten! Nine! Eight!”_

Shepard shuts the bedroom door, muffling the shouts coming from everyone down below. Kaidan presses him against the door, hands wandering over and then under his shirt. Shepard moans and tries to clear his head, but the alcohol hums through his veins, spins the room around them even as he feels the solid wood of the door under his fingers.

_“Seven! Six! Five!”_

He pushes away, stumbling backwards and laughing, pulling Kaidan with him to the bed. They fall together and the bed protests with a creak at their combined weights. Kaidan’s hands don’t stop wandering, pulling away interfering clothes with a drunken grumble while Shepard tries to kick off his boots and fails. He’s not even sure he remembers how footwear works exactly.

_“Four! Three! Two!”_

Kaidan’s hands brush over Shepard’s side and he jerks, giggling and grappling, twisting them around on the bed. Everything spins and spins and he thinks of nothing but hands and too much clothing; Kaidan’s mouth hot on his neck; the low rumble of laughter vibrating Kaidan’s chest under his fingers.

_“One! Happy New Year!”_

His head feels heavy, barely able to keep his eyes open. He rests his head on Kaidan’s chest. Just for a moment, he tells himself, and listens to the steady rhythm of the heart beating under his ear. “Happy New Year, Kay,” he mutters. The other man only mumbles in reply, arms tightening around him, hands finally still.

Everything spins.


	11. On the Eleventh Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11 prompt: Goodwill towards Man, and Aliens, too.

Kaidan stumbles through the apartment behind Shepard, head pounding in what he hopes is only a hangover and not the beginnings of a migraine to end all migraines. He takes in the sights: Javik on the floor of their bathroom (he doesn’t even want to think of how– _or when_ –the Prothean had ended up in there); Garrus cradling his head in his hands and muttering something about a bomb and not touching the coffee pot; Joker with his forehead on the bar, his normal chatter quieted by a steady moan of pain. But it’s the scene on the couch that stops him short.

Wrex. Sprawled across the sofa, the tattered remains of the Santa suit that James had been wearing strewn over his body as if the Krogan had attempted to…wear it? One of the arms is detached from the rest of the coat, bunched up around Wrex’s wrist. The rest is draped over his shoulder and back as if he’d tried to wear the remainder as best he could. Kaidan notes that the shining black boots are actually on Wrex’s feet, although he can see they’ve been slit cleanly up the back to get them to fit. The pants, thankfully, are nowhere to be seen. He’s not sure he could handle the sight of whatever strips of red cloth might manage to cover what lays beneath the Krogan’s armor.

The Santa hat rests on Wrex’s head, what’s left of the large white pom-pom resting just at the corner of his mouth and shifting back and forth with each breath. Small bits of white fluff stick out from between the sleeping Krogan’s teeth.

“Well,” Shepard says as he surveys the damage. “Guess we know who gets to be Santa at next year’s party.”

Kaidan can’t agree more.


	12. On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 12 prompt: Amnesty Day

Commander Shepard stares up at the expanse of space, watching the slipstream of the mass effect field as it ripples over the Normandy. There is only the sound of the engines running deep down in the belly of the ship, the quiet breaths of Kaidan, the occasionally watery swish as a fish surfaces in the aquarium. He reaches underneath the pillow and pulls out the small velvet box and sets it on his stomach, fingering the silk ribbon as he debates and his heart beats harder.

He turns his head slightly, taking in the profile of his sleeping lover, outlined in the darkness by the blue light of the aquarium. Kaidan’s face is almost boyish in sleep, peaceful and vulnerable and Shepard almost doesn’t say anything. But he knows there’s only so much time left to them; like a dam is about to burst somewhere and take them all down in an unavoidable current. If there’s any time to say what he needs to say, that time is now.

“Hey, Kaidan. You awake?”

“Hm?” The man sighs and rubs his cheek against Shepard’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut tighter before they blink open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just…I wanted to tell you something.”

Kaidan shifts and stretches his legs, foot sliding over Shepard’s calf. “Okay.” His eyes flick down to the box that sits waiting on Shepard’s stomach, then back up to search Shepard’s face. “What’s up?”

His heart beats so hard he can feel it in his throat. He swallows. “So…I want to tell you. About a family tradition. It was something my mom’s family did from way back. She thought maybe it was her great-grandmother who started it? But anyway. What happened was on Christmas morning, when we’d all unwrap our presents, there would be one present that didn’t have a name on it. Sometimes it was a small box. Sometimes it was big. But it always had the nicest wrapping paper and the prettiest bow. We all–my brothers and I–we’d go crazy on trying to figure out who it was for. But the deal was, it wouldn’t be opened for a year. After Christmas it would be put away in some super secret hiding place that none of us could ever figure out. And then it would only come out the next year, with a tag on it. Who it was from–usually it was from mom, but sometimes it was dad. Who it was for. And it was always a really good gift. Something one of us had been asking for, something we really wanted. And it wasn’t always for us kids. One year dad got mom an antique bracelet…” He stops the flow of words, choking on the memory of that life. Mindoir. Before hell rained down on them.

“Okay…” Kaidan’s eyes flick down to the box again and linger longer before he looks up. “John—”

“It was a sort of…insurance.” Shepard continues. “For the next year. A charm to get us through to the next Christmas. That we’d all be there. That we’d be together. I sometimes wonder…what happened to that last gift. Who it was for. What it was. But. I guess it doesn’t matter now does it?” He swallows down the ache that tightens his throat. He so rarely allows himself to remember. And even when he does everyone is a blur–his older brothers Kipling and Mark; even his mother with her dark hair and worried smile, and his dad with eyes that were bluer than his own and his horrible, awful dad jokes.

He picks up the box and holds it in his fingers. “What matters is now. You. You’re…everything to me, Kaidan. I don’t know what I’d do without you here. I feel like I’d collapse if you weren’t here with me. Everything I fight for, it’s all for you. For us. For a future I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to have. But I…I want that. A future. If it’s ever possible. And I want you with me, if you’ll have me.”

Kaidan’s hand rests on his chest and he turns it over, places the box in his palm. “It’s up to you. If you open this now. Or wait until next year. But I want you to have it either way. I want something…some sort of insurance that there will be a next year. A next Christmas. I know it’s stupid—”

“No, it’s not. John.”

He smiles and he knows it’s probably a sad smile. There are no guarantees. Especially now. But maybe they can pretend. Even for a moment.

Kaidan turns the box over, rubs the soft velvet. He’s quiet for a long time, studying the box and the ribbon. Shepard watches him and loves him more, his heart still a steady, pounding rhythm in his chest.

Finally Kaidan moves, stretching his arm out to reach over Shepard and place the unopened box on the bedside table. He says, “Yes, John. Whatever’s in that box. Whenever it happens. _Whatever_ happens. I love you. Yes.”

Kaidan kisses him and the weight of the galaxy lifts from Shepard’s shoulders.

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kipling is one of my OC Shepards (renagon) and Mark is potionmaster's renegade Shepard. It seemed appropriate.
> 
> *These have also been cross-posted on my [tumblr blog](http://threewhiskeylunch.tumblr.com/search/masseffectholidayspecial2016).


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